


Call My Name

by Severina



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:59:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4276065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Rush awakens from a nightmare, Chloe knows just how to make things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's smallfandomfest for the prompt 'call my name'
> 
> * * *

Back on the alien ship, bare feet slapping against metal floors as he ran. The Nakai closing in on him, but that didn't matter now. He had lost Chloe – somehow he had lost her – and he had to get her back.

"Nick!"

Rush thudded to a stop, water dripping from his wet suit and pooling on the floor, and strained to hear. The voice faint, but clearly in pain. 

"Chloe!" he shouted, uncaring that it may draw the Nakai to his position, uncaring about anything but finding her. "Call my name! Call my name and I can follow the sound of your voice!"

Nothing. He ran anyway, down endless corridors, finally emerging into a vast cavern of their holding tanks. Dozens, hundreds, limitless, stretching out into infinity, people trapped within each one and pounding desperately on the glass. Eli, Young, Johansen, Telford… he bypassed them all, searching for familiar blue eyes, for long chestnut hair.

"Chloe!" he screamed, his voice echoing in the vast expanse. Skidded around corners, a stitch in his side now, lungs wheezing, calves burning. "Call my name!"

An abrupt stop at the end of a long hallway, the breath stolen from his lungs at the sight of her. No breathing apparatus, no twisting tubes to hold her in place. Nothing but Chloe floating weightless in the huge tank, her eyes wide and unseeing, her lips blue.

"No." He fell to his knees, wet hair hanging in his eyes. Curled his hands onto his knees. The rasping chatter of the Nakai all around him, but all he could do was shake his head. "No," he repeated. "Chloe. Call my name!"

 

"Nick!"

He came awake with a jerk, one moment gasping out her name and the next blinking into the dimness of the room and struggling with the blankets that had twisted around his legs. One moment watching her drift past him, her eyes open and sightless, and the next—

He reached out for her wildly, clutched her to his chest; knew that he was holding her too tightly but couldn't seem to relax his grip for even an instant. She didn't seem to care, her arms coming round his waist to squeeze him back. "Thought I'd lost you," he managed to mumble into the fall of her hair, and her hands drifted further up his back to clench at his shoulder blades.

He was only able to release her in slow increments, millimeters at a time; needed to feel the press of her breasts against his chest as she took in air, the whisper of her breath against the curve of his neck, the warmth of her skin against his body. 

"Jesus," he finally breathed out when she was far enough away that he could see her eyes, when he could raise a shaking hand to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen against her cheek. He drew in a steadying breath of his own and the world seemed to right itself a little further. "Just a dream."

She nodded, wrapped her fingers around his and drew them into her lap. "You kept screaming at me to call your name—"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted. Could not return there again, to that dreamscape where she was cold and lifeless. It was still too close, the fear and anguish he'd felt too great. He threaded his fingers through hers instead, lifted their joined hands so that he could press his lips to the pulse on her wrist, beating fast and strong. "It doesn't matter."

"Was it the—"

"It doesn't matter!" he snapped, winced when she stiffened, her spine taut with tension. He lifted his other hand to cup her face, brushed his thumb against her cheekbone in apology. "I'm sorry, Chloe. I just—"

"It's all right," she said. She pulled her hand free, but only so that she could press both palms against his chest and ease him onto his back; curled against him and laid her head on his chest. "When I was young I used to have a recurring nightmare once a week. I never wanted to talk about it either."

Her fingers traced idle patterns on his skin, figure eights and spirals, and slowly he relaxed into the pillow. With each brush of her fingertips the nightmare images slowly departed, the wave of panic receding under her influence, the taste of brine fading from his tongue. He let his own fingers drift along her arm, and finally felt enough like himself to tease her gently. "When you were young?" he repeated, raising his head to gaze down at her. "So… last week?"

He gasped when she twisted his nipple in retaliation, then lifted herself on her elbows to return his look. "If you're going to be mean to me," she said, "I may just have to reconsider my decision to fuck you right now."

He raised a brow, regarded her in the meagre light. "Was lovemaking on the menu, then?"

"Well," she said. Her head dipped, her tongue laving at his abused nipple while her hand drifted below his waist, found him straining and eager against his boxers as he had been practically since he awoke and pulled her into his arms. The eyes she lifted to his managed to convey both innocence and wicked longing. "Since we're both awake."

"Ah yes," he said. "Awake and with nothing better to do. Might as well get a shag in."

She lifted a shoulder. "Might as well," she said, and her lips curled into a grin just before they met his. 

He threaded a hand through her hair, following where she led. Slid his lips almost chastely against hers; opened for her when her clever tongue darted out to tease at his bottom lip. He cast the dream aside and thought of nothing but Chloe as she was now: the weight of her breast in his hand, the nipple firming beneath his palm; the soft curve of her hip; the quiet, startled gasp against his lips as his fingers found her wet and pushed inside her, stroking delicate skin, making her fingers curl into his shoulders as she writhed above him.

And when she finally lifted herself to straddle him, he let out a strangled gasp of his own. His hands found her hips as he urged her to move faster, lifted his own hips in the shallowest of thrusts so that each one ground her pelvis against his and brought her closer to her release. Watched her head fall back, the light from the streaming stars outside the window dancing on skin now shiny with sweat, and knew himself to be the luckiest man alive.

"Chloe," he murmured.

He waited until she blinked at him, eyes dark with lust. Hips snapping now, breath coming in tiny gasps from half-open lips. Heel of her hand grinding into his shoulder, grounding herself as she worked above him. 

"Chloe," he breathed out. "Call my name."


End file.
